


Love and Loss

by MonPetitTresor



Series: Sam is Sigyn [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Complicated Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Grief, Loss, M/M, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2018-11-09 21:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11113389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonPetitTresor/pseuds/MonPetitTresor
Summary: Not all the memories that come through for Sam are bad, but not all of them are good, either. With the newest set of memories coming in through his dreams, it's going to bring them to a moment that will make or break the two of them. Is Sam going to be able to withstand the memories of the past and let Gabriel in? Or will his fear push him away?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one is gong to be emotional. Just a heads up!

As much as Gabriel hated it – he’d bitched loudly enough for them all to clearly understand it – there were no other archangels to help put Heaven back together and God obviously wasn’t stepping up to the plate, so there was only one being out there left to try and fix the damage Metatron had done.

What that seemed to mean for the Winchesters was that their days were pretty quiet while the two angels were gone up in Heaven doing whatever it was that they had to do. Yet come dinner time every single night, without fail, they showed back up at the Bunker. Sometimes Dean was cooking for them, sometimes Gabriel snapped up food on his arrival. But they all met together for dinner at 6:30 pm sharp. It was so domestic sounding Sam had a hard time wrapping his head around it all even after a week of doing it. He thought about mentioning that to Dean, or joking around with him about it, right up until he’d watched the way that Dean started to watch the clock the closer it got to six, or how he’d light right up the minute that Castiel arrived, and Sam kept those words locked behind his teeth. He wasn’t going to risk anything that might make Dean push this away.

Sometimes after their dinners they’d gather together and talk or watch movies. More often, though, Castiel and Dean ended up heading to the garage after dinner where Dean was going to go back to the repairs he’d been doing on his precious car, and Castiel was going to – well, who knew exactly what it was he was going to do. Sit somewhere nearby and stare longingly in Dean’s direction?

That left Sam and Gabriel alone together in the library. There was an interesting tension that sat between them lately, especially after their dinner date, yet it wasn’t a bad one. It wasn’t one that had Sam wanting to hide out instead of hanging out with him. More – Gabriel honestly seemed to be trying to get to know Sam for _Sam_ , taking the time to talk to him and ask questions, and it was awesome at the same time as being a little bit strange. No one was ever this interested in Sam. The only person who he could ever remember wanting to taking the time to really get to know him, to ask all sorts of questions both big and small, had been Jess, and he’d had to either skirt around the truth or outright lie to her on a lot of things.

With Gabriel, he didn’t have to do that. He didn’t have to hide any parts of his life. Not even the parts he wasn’t the proudest of. He could tell Gabriel about the hunt when he was thirteen where he and Dean had thought they were going to get eaten by a werewolf only to find out it was a racoon that had chased them through the bushes. Or he could tell him about how much he’d hated having to travel from town to town, and how guilty it always made him feel for not wanting to do it. Gabriel just had this way of drawing those things out of him, and he never judged him for it. Or they could just sit there and talk about books or movies together. The topic never mattered.

All in all, things seemed to be going well. Life finally felt like it was starting to even out once more. Heaven was open, Castiel had his grace back, and he and Dean seemed to be slowly making their way towards the hint of something more. The Winchesters weren’t fighting any big bad at the moment, the world wasn’t ending, and they were actually pulling in a few basic cases that they were able to get some easy wins with, which always made them feel good. Even things with Gabriel were going rather well. Sam was slowly starting to come to terms with the fact that maybe this whole thing was really real – that Gabriel might actually like _him_.

The dreams hadn’t stopped. Some of them were simple things. Dinners with Loki, days spent lazing together around the house. Outings with other gods and goddesses. There were some that Sam had a hard time writing down in the journal, things that he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to put into words. Passion filled nights that left him waking up hard and empty and wanting nothing more than to call out to a husband who wasn’t technically his husband anymore.

When he dreamed the birth of their firstborn son a couple weeks after the big boss fight, Sam had woken up feeling empty inside and yet with a heart so full of love, he hadn’t been able to contain it.

When he walked out to the kitchen that morning and found Castiel, Gabriel, and Dean all there, the love that Sam still felt inside, the memory of holding that tiny little bundle in his arms, had him walking straight to Gabriel. The archangel was sitting on the counter talking animatedly to Castiel, who was watching Dean cook pancakes, presumably ‘learning’. Dean liked to teach him things. Sam didn’t really care about them; his eyes were all for Gabriel.

Something on his face must’ve clued Gabriel in, at least a little, or else he was just that easygoing, because he didn’t miss a beat when Sam got to him. He opened up his arms and Sam went right into their embrace. He burrowed in, something that shouldn’t been impossible with his size, and he buried his face against Gabriel’s neck. His memories were caught between the past and the present as he drew in a shaky breath of Gabriel’s unique scent. The arms around him were holding him close, a firm hand stroking over his back, and Sam remembered the way it’d felt for Gabriel to hold _her_ , whispering praise in her ear as she pushed and pushed.

_“Come on, Sig! You can do it. Come on!”_

_She gripped tighter to the arms on either side of her and bore down, gritting her teeth as she fought to_ push _. So close, she was so close! Just another push. Just one more and then… and then…_

_A loud, squalling cry filled the room, and the pain finally gave way to a sense of euphoria unlike anything she’d ever known. She barely cared at all for what was going on below her. Even the pushes required to take care of the afterbirth were nothing. There was nothing else in the world that was more important than the small, blanket-wrapped bundle that was being brought to her chest once it was all done. With shaky arms she reached up and let them place the tiny little bundle into her arms._

_Loki’s arms curled a little more firmly around her, helping her to cradle the weight with her shaking limbs, and she turned her head away from the breathtaking sight of their child to look back at his face. His eyes were shining with a joy that matched her own. “He’s beautiful.” Loki murmured, eyes on their son. Then they lifted to her and she saw the shimmering sheen of tears pooling there. “Just like his mother.”_

There had been so much love and joy radiating off of Loki in that moment. Being able to hold on to him now helped ease the ache of Sam’s empty arms, his empty stomach. He could hear Dean asking something nearby, his voice a bit deeper than normal and full of worry, and it was followed by the even deeper rumble of Castiel’s voice. Neither of those mattered, though. Not anywhere near as much as the soft kiss that Gabriel pressed against his hair or the way he drew Sam in just a little bit closer. “It’s all right, sweetheart.” The words were a gentle, low murmur, and they carried a hint of that love that Sam had felt in his dreams. “Whatever’s going on, it’s going to be all right.”

Sam turned his face in a little more until his eyes were pressed right against Gabriel’s skin and his nose was buried in the collar of his shirt. It probably shouldn’t have felt so good to be here. So safe. “I’m okay.” Sam said. The words came out a mumbled mess, muffled by how he was pressed so tight against Gabriel, and he wasn’t quite sure which of them he was trying to convince.

Thankfully, Gabriel didn’t call him on it. He just gave Sam a squeeze and kept rubbing at his back. And if Sam cried just a little, well, neither one of them said a word about it.

Gabriel didn’t even ask Sam anything about it when the hunter finally pulled away, though it was obvious that he wanted to. He respected Sam enough to let him do this on his terms. Though knowing that Sam would write it down for him to read later probably helped with that. Instead of asking, he brought a hand up and gently wiped away the remnants of Sam’s tears, and he smiled at him. “Better?”

“Yeah.” Now that reason had started to kick back in, the embarrassment came in, too. “Sorry.”

There wasn’t even a pause before Gabriel shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry for. I’m always up for hugs. I don’t care if it’s memories, nightmares, or you’re just feeling lonely.” His lips quirked up into that grin of his that no one else ever got to see. The one that seemed to be reserved for Sigyn – for Sam. “Come cuddle any time you need, sweetheart. You don’t even have to tell me why.” There was a hint of teasing there that could’ve made the words a joke if it weren’t for the absolute seriousness that Sam could read on his face. The hunter couldn’t say anything. He could only bring himself to nod.

Sam took him up on that offer a couple times over the next month. As he watched things in his dream grow, as he watched his little family become bigger, _happier_ , there were times that he couldn’t quite contain his own happiness when he woke up. And there were times where something happened, someone was hurt or ill, and Sam found that even just going to sit next to Gabriel on the couch afterwards was enough to ease him back down a little. He could sit there with his feet tucked under the archangel’s leg and his notebook on his lap while he wrote the dream out.

They had this strange sort of friendship/relationship thing going on that Sam wasn’t quite sure had any real label they could place on it. They weren’t Sigyn and Loki anymore, but they weren’t quite Sam and Gabriel yet either. They were at the between stage and Sam was content to let it grow and progress on its own time.

But then, something happened that started to change all that. Something that broke Sam in ways he hadn’t known were possible. And in the aftermath, the two of them were either going to break completely apart, or walk away stronger than ever before.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry... J suggests you grab some tissues?

The Winchester brothers were out on a simple case just a few hours from home when it happened. They’d taken out a vengeful spirit in the small town and both of them were a bit beat up afterwards and more than happy to head back to their motel to crash for a while. Sam didn’t even bother to change out of his clothes once he hit their room. He sat down on the bed and kicked off his shoes while he listened to Dean start up his shower. With the sounds of running water and the comfort of his brother nearby, Sam let his aching body sink down into the mattress and he closed his eyes, asleep before he even finished taking a few breaths.

It didn’t last long. Just a couple hours later the sleep that had been gripping him finally let him go and Sam woke up with a pained cry already tearing past his lips and the weight of grief heavy in his chest. That grief consumed him, this throbbing ache that took over every single inch of him, and he couldn’t breathe past it. It crushed him, taking any strength from his body. Sam felt tears burning his eyes and didn’t bother trying to fight them. Even as he heard Dean hopping up off the other bed, the younger Winchester laid back down, his body curling on in itself, one word echoing over and over inside his mind. _Nari._

Warm hands touched Sam. He didn’t bother turning towards them or answering the voice that spoke to him. Curling tighter, he gripped at his chest as if that would take away the pain somehow, ease the grief that was clawing him apart. This was so much worse than any loss he’d felt. This… this was worse than Jess. Worse than the deaths of his brother. Sam didn’t care about the differences between himself or his dreams right then. He didn’t care about how he’d been trying to keep them separate or how they were starting to bleed together. None of it mattered underneath all _this_.

His little Nari. Sweet, beautiful, laughing Nari, who’d been so much like his father. Who had looked up at him from those same laughing eyes as Loki, that same mischief and humor present there almost from the start. Sam could remember as clear as day how Nari had always looked up at him like he was either ready to cause trouble or had just caused some and was trying to think of a way out of it. Nari, the sweet boy he could remember nursing through illnesses, holding through nightmares. Cradling against his chest as they looked up at the stars. He could remember the feel of carrying that life inside of him. How it felt the first time he’d kicked. How he’d been late, taking his sweet time on coming into the world. He could remember what it felt like to hold that darling baby in his arms for the first time – and what it felt like to hold him there for the last.

Tears burned hot trails down Sam’s cheeks. His hand fisted in his shirt right over his heart. It _hurt_! Oh, God, it hurt so damn much it felt like he’d smother under it. Like it would push him down and break him apart. Grief was a familiar sensation for Winchesters, but not like this. Never like this.

“Cas!” Dean’s voice broke through the haze of pain and Sam became vaguely aware that Dean was sitting on his bed, trying to hold on to him. “Cas, get your ass down here! There’s something wrong with Sammy and I don’t know what’s going on!” Then the weight around him shifting and Dean was close, his voice gentler now, yet still firm in that way he had that was both strength and comfort to Sam – usually. “Hang on there, buddy. Just hang on. Whatever’s going on, Cas is gonna help, you’ll see. Just hang on for me until he gets here.”

Sam tried to do as his brother asked. He tried to hold on, to keep himself under control with the pain of all this, but it was hard. He couldn’t bring himself to move even when Castiel showed up. Even when the angel touched him, Sam still couldn’t move. He was caught up in the onslaught of memories that were filling him. Some that he’d had in his dreams and some that he swore he’d never seen before. He could see Nari and Loki running together through the fields. He remembered the necklaces that Nari used to make out of the shells he found on the beach. She’d kept every single one.

It didn’t even occur to Sam how his mindset was slipping; even to himself, he was using the feminine pronouns. Because in those memories that’s what Sam was – a _she_. Not him, not Sam. Her.

She’d been wearing one of those necklaces the day that Nari came home telling her of the girl he’d found, the beautiful woman he wanted to court – and she’d been wearing one the day that he died.

A soft sob tore past Sam’s lips. He felt his brother’s hand in his hair, stroking gently, but it didn’t help. It didn’t stop this feeling or make it go away.

“I am unsure as to what’s wrong.” Castiel said lowly from nearby. “There is no physical ailment here. This is… this is emotional. His soul is grieving a loss beyond imagining.”

“Loss of _what_?” Dean demanded. “Dude, he was sleeping!”

There was a brief hesitation on the word sleeping and Sam knew that Castiel had picked up on it. “I believe he had another of these dreams.”

“Son of a _bitch_.”

“Dean, this is not something that you or I are equipped to help your brother with. There is only one other who would understand his pain right now and I believe he is the only one that could help.”

Sam sort of tuned them out after that. A fresh round of tears was burning down his cheeks and it felt like he was gasping for air in his effort to keep the sobs at bay. Whatever they said, whatever they decided, he never heard it. However, he heard something else. Something much more important. “What happened to him?” That was Gabriel’s voice, short and icy in that way he got when he was worried and seriously pissed off. The bed dipped right near Sam’s arms and he blinked past watery eyes to see that it was Gabriel right there, sitting down right beside him.

Not even giving himself time to think about it, Sam uncurled one hand from himself and reached out almost blindly. His hand was caught up in an instant and he felt the warmth of Gabriel’s touch curling around him. “ _Kee_.” Another sob broke free and Sam shuddered under it, pulling on Gabriel’s hand and trying to curl over it, needing that contact.

“Shit.” Gabriel said softly. His one hand held tight to Sam’s and his other came up to take over the stroking that Dean had been doing before. The warm wash of grace swept over Sam but it did nothing to take away the grief. “What the hell is going on here? What happened to him?”

It was Dean who answered him. “We don’t know. Cas says he’s not hurt. He was just… he had another of those freaking dreams, I think. He woke up screaming and then moaned out some word like he was dying before he curled in on himself like this. I haven’t been able to get him to move or respond since then.”

“What’d he say?”

“Neery, Norry…”

Sam felt Gabriel’s hand spasm in his. “Nari?” He sounded almost hoarse. The hand in Sam’s hair went completely still.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s it.”

There was the sound of a soft ‘ _oh_ ’ and then all of a sudden Sam felt Gabriel’s grip on his hand tighten at the same time that the trickster scooted in even closer. “Oh, sweetheart. Dammit, Sammy, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Those strong hands moved and Sam gratefully let himself be gathered up and pulled tight against Gabriel’s chest. It felt better here; easier to breathe, though that didn’t make any sense. Gabriel’s arms were holding him tight and Sam’s face was pressed right up against his neck so close it was a wonder he wasn’t smothering himself, yet somehow he could breathe better, could draw in enough air that he felt less like he was being smothered.

“What the hell is going on here?” Dean demanded. “Who the hell is Nari and what’d he do to Sammy? Did he hurt him?”

 _No,_ I _hurt_ him, Sam thought achingly. His hands curled into fists and he didn’t realize that he’d gripped tightly to Gabriel’s shirt. Another sob broke free. _I hurt him. I didn’t keep him safe. I didn’t protect him. My Nari. My sweet little one._

A snarl bubbled up Gabriel’s chest. “Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.” The trickster hissed at him. “He didn’t hurt Sam. Nari was our _son_.” With no more than that, there was a snap of the fingers and the sensation of flight and then they were on something else, something even softer than the bed Sam had been on before. None of it mattered because Gabriel stretched himself out and then pulled Sam in as close as he could possibly get him. He held Sam like he was something precious and started to make soft, soothing sounds against Sam’s hair, almost crooning to him. He didn’t tell Sam that it was okay, and Sam was grateful for that. He just whispered soft reassurances that let Sam know he was there and that it was okay to let go. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’m right here and I’ve got you. There’s no one else to see you here but me. Just let go, Sammy.”

Let go Sam did. The tears poured unchecked from his eyes and his body shook under the force of his sobs. Sam knew he was drenching Gabriel’s jacket and shirt and couldn’t really bring himself to care. “It hurts.” He whimpered. God, did it hurt!

There was pain in Gabriel’s voice when he pressed close and whispered “I know.”

How had Gabriel dealt with this? He would’ve been alone all those years without anyone to grieve like this with. In such a short time he’d lost one of his sons and his wife as well and he’d had no one to help him. No one to get him through the pain. No one to hold him the way that he was holding Sam now. Thinking about it only made Sam cry all the harder. “Why?” He croaked out. “Why would they… he didn't…”

“I’m so sorry, Sammy.” There was a thickness to Gabriel’s voice that told Sam that he was crying as well. “I didn’t want you to have to remember this. I didn’t want you to have to feel this. If I could, I would’ve spared you this.”

Rage like nothing Sam had ever felt before roared to life inside of him and he found himself shoving at Gabriel, pushing hard enough that they both were pushed away from each other. Fire danced in his eyes as he glared at the being who was now staring at him with wide, wet eyes. “Don’t you dare!” Sam snapped out harshly, his own tears still falling. He couldn’t seem to get them to stop falling. “Don’t you dare say you’d take that from me! Damn you, Loki, he’s mine too!” The tears came faster as the past and the present mixed together even more. Sam couldn’t tell which parts were him and which parts were Sigyn anymore. They all blended together in this big ball of grief and pain and rage that had no outlet. None except the man reaching out for him.

Sam lashed out at the hands that grabbed for him. He tried to slap them away, to shove them back from him, but Gabriel didn’t let him. He caught one of Sam’s wrists and used it to tug him in. A pained cry tore past Sam’s lips and he fought like a wild thing to try and break free from Gabriel’s hold. He didn’t realize he was screaming at first, curses and pleas that ripped from his throat with a raw agony that had the archangel wincing and both their tears flowing faster.

Strong arms finally dragged him in enough that Sam found himself pinned against a solid chest in a hold he knew he couldn’t break free from. He struggled still, trying to hit or shove or anything, _anything_ to try and vent this pain that felt like it was going to shred him apart. All the while Gabriel just held him close and whispered words in his ear that Sam was beyond understanding.

“It’s not _fair_!” Sam screamed, shoving at Gabriel’s chest, kicking out his legs. Gabriel pulled him in closer and let Sam writhe and hit and kick all he needed. That easy acceptance broke something inside of Sam and he slumped down in Gabriel’s arms. “My baby.” He said hoarsely. A fresh round of tears fell and a sob tore its way free from his chest. “Our _baby_ , Kee. Our little baby.”

Gabriel’s hold shifted; less restraining and more comforting now. He buried his face in against Sam’s hair and took a breath that was more like a shuddering sob. “I know, sweetheart. I know.”

The two clung to one another as Sam cried out the grief of a loss that sat so heavily upon his soul.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. I didn't want to minimize Sam's grief in here, nor did I want to make it seem like he'd be able to just brush past it since this was the past. So, hopefully I did an okay job. Thanks for waiting so long!

The next few days passed by in a fog that, later, Sam would barely remember. He knew that his body was moved, that he ate, that Gabriel even coaxed him into the shower once. None of it really registered. How could it? The grief he felt was too much for him to process. Most of his time was spent either sitting in a chair or lying in bed, his body curled in on itself.

It wasn’t until the third day – or was it the fourth? He wasn’t sure, he’d lost track of time – that their little bubble was broken.

Gabriel got him up and dressed that morning. But instead of drawing him up to the table as he’d been doing, he pulled Sam into the circle of his arms and Sam summoned up the energy to look up at him, confused. He found Gabriel watching him with sadness and understanding on his face. Not once had he chided Sam for the grief he showed; instead, he’d been here every step of the way, supporting him, letting him grieve.

One hand came up to cup the side of Sam’s face. “I know you want to hide out here,” Gabriel said gently, keeping him close. “Trust me, sweetheart, I get it. I do. But I think it’s time we joined up with the rest of our family.”

What family? The family he’d had was gone. Taken from him, over and over again. Ripped away from him by some of the very people who would later take the only thing she had left – her life.

Gabriel’s eyes fluttered closed. He leaned in, his forehead pressing against Sam’s chin, even as a shudder shook the rest of him. When he finally straightened up, there were tears in his eyes, ones that he showed no shame in letting fall. But there was strength there as well. It kept Sam from looking away as Gabriel’s eyes locked on him. “You still have family, Samshine. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but you do. Cassie’s been talking to me every day to check in on you. He’s worried about you. And Deano? I’ve never heard the guy pray so much. The rest of your family – _our_ family – they’re still here, and they’re worried about you. You’re not alone.”

 _Dean._ His name broke through the fog in a way that little else had these past days.

Gabriel must’ve sensed it because he latched on to that. “That’s right. Dean’s waiting for you to come and have breakfast with him. No one… no one expects you to just start feeling better, sweetheart. But shutting yourself away like this, it’s not good. It’s not healthy. Trust me, I know.”

That had Sam wincing. He closed his eyes, turning his face in against Gabriel’s palm. Gabriel had been alone with this grief. He’d lost his son, and then he’d lost his wife, and he’d been _alone_. Wasn’t it right that Sam was alone, too? She hadn’t been able to protect her family. Why should she accept their protection now? It was right that she grieved like this.

The pronoun switch, even inside his own head, didn’t bother Sam like it once might’ve. This latest onslaught of memories seemed to have broken what little separation he’d managed between the two parts of himself. Him, her, what did it matter? What did any of it matter? Sam felt like both of them.

Pain pulsed through the constant sense of power that sat in the room around them. Gabriel’s pain. That prompted Sam to open his eyes, to look down at the being in front of him that was holding him together in so many different ways. Sam’s grief was clearly bringing back Gabriel’s own. It was bringing it out and pushing it to the forefront, and Gabriel wasn’t even bothering with it. All of his focus was on Sam.

A hint of guilt worked its way forward. Nari wasn’t just his son. He was Gabriel’s as well. It wasn’t right that Gabriel was forced to bear all this, alone – _again_ – to help Sam. Curling in, Sam pressed his cheek against Gabriel’s hair, the first contact that he’d initiated that wasn’t all for him. He felt it as Gabriel startled and then sighed into his embrace. For a moment, the two of them just stood there, holding each other together. There was a peace in that moment that Sam hadn’t felt for a while.

When they finally broke apart, it took a lot of effort for Sam to make himself speak, to say the words that he knew he needed to. “Let’s go eat.”

The way that Gabriel beamed at him made it clear he knew just how little Sam wanted to do this, yet how much the archangel appreciated his effort.

Without giving Sam time to change his mind, Gabriel tugged him in close and, together, the two flew away.

* * *

Being back with Dean didn’t make everything better the way that Sam had sort of hoped it would. Sure, it helped to have him there. The way that Dean looked at him, the sadness in his eyes and the steadiness in his touch as he pulled Sam into a hug, those helped the younger Winchester to ground himself. To find another anchor in the middle of the storm. They stood together for a long while – longer than Dean would normally allow.

When they finally pulled back, Dean caught hold of the side of Sam’s head in that same hold he always used when he was worried about him. One that held him there and let Dean look him over while also offering a touch Sam could lean into, one that his younger brother would be able to draw comfort from. Dean knew how much Sam needed touch sometimes. This was one of his ways of giving it to both of them.

He didn’t tell Sam that everything was going to be okay. He didn’t try to trivialize it, or push him to let it out or let it go. For one brief moment the two brothers just stood there and stared at one another. Then Dean nodded like he’d gotten some sort of answer. “All right, Sammy.”

The urge to cry again hit Sam hard. He drew in a shaky breath, not even realizing that he’d reached out and latched on to his brother’s shirt. “Dean.”

Dean gave the side of his head a careful pat. “I know.” That was all he said – just ‘I know’ – and yet it was enough. It was exactly what Sam needed. He relaxed a little more as Dean slid his arm around his shoulders and started to tug Sam over towards the table, ignoring the two angels silently watching them. “C’mon, tiger. Let’s get some food in you. Then I think it’s about time we headed home, don’t you?”

As Sam let Dean lead him over towards the table, he cast a brief look over at Gabriel, catching his gaze. There was so much emotion in the look that Gabriel gave him. It gave Sam a little strength; enough to smile, just a little, and nod. “Yeah. Home sounds nice.”

* * *

Home was where they went. The Winchesters and their angels retreated to the comfort of the bunker to give them the time and safety to try and heal old wounds.

No matter how strong our grief is, there’s truth behind the old adage that ‘time heals all wounds’. Little by little Sam found himself pulling out from the dark cloud of depression that had fallen over him. With each passing day, the act he put on for them became a little less fake. He started to eat more, and with less prompting. Once in a while he found the strength to smile. It wasn’t easy. There were still nights that the grief gripped him and he’d end up curled against Gabriel as he sobbed. But it was getting better.

Not once in that entire time did Gabriel ever leave him. He gave Sam space if he needed, would leave the room or stay inside while Sam took a walk around the bunker. But he was never far. If Sam needed him, he was there, and he grieved right along with Sam. The two shared their pain with each other, the way it should’ve been the first time. And in that sharing, they found a sense of peace.

Eventually, it reached a point where thoughts of Nari brought an ache with them, yet not the debilitating kind. Sam found that he could think of the good memories without having them overlaid with the bad. Where he could think of him and smile.

It helped to have Dean there. His brother never once wavered in the support he’d offered. Just like he’d done countless times in Sam’s life, he made himself a steady support. _Stone one_. Something which Sam could hold on to, lean against, as he fought to find his own strength again.

But it was Castiel who helped give Sam that final push back towards the land of the living.

One afternoon, just shy of two weeks after that dream, the seraph came to Sam was he was sitting outside away from everyone. He didn’t speak – a trait he was rather good at, honestly. Being around Castiel never brought with it the pressure of needing to talk. The two could sit together and say absolutely nothing and it was fine. Sam never felt pressured to do anything else. So when Castiel came up to him, Sam didn’t say a word, nor did he flinch. He didn’t even look up at first. Not until he realized that Castiel was still standing above him instead of moving to sit beside him.

When Sam finally looked up, he found Castiel was just watching him. After a second, the angel held his hand out in a silent appeal. Sam hesitated only briefly before he reached out and took it, letting Castiel pull him to his feet.

The two walked down one of the less used paths around the bunker. Sam said nothing as he followed along at Castiel’s side. He simply walked and kept a light grip on the hand still holding his.

It wasn’t until the trees broke in front of them that Sam finally paid any sort of attention. When he did, when he saw what lay ahead, he stopped in his tracks and stared. In the center of the clearing stood tall one single tree. There weren’t any others close to it, so it was easy for Sam to see how different this one was. It wasn’t

“There are many different traditions humans have come up with to help them cope with grief. I’ve thought of many these past days, trying to think of what might help you. And then I remembered a group of humans I once watched.” Castiel walked forward, his eyes on the tree in front of him. His voice was deeper than normal and yet seemed to fit into the mood that had fallen over their little glade. Sam watched as the seraph stopped beside the tree and reached out to lay one palm flat on it. “For each death in their community, they planted a tree. It was their way of putting up something to honor the one that passed while also creating something beautiful for the future. It holds more appeal to me than the countless graves and stones that are erected all over the earth.”

With his palm still on the tree, Castiel turned to Sam and offered him a small smile. If he noticed the tears that were already starting to fall, he made no comment on them. He just continued on in that same steady, gentle voice.

“Most of what I found suggested that an oak tree was the way to go. But, in my research I came across this one and I believed it to be the right thing.” His hand lifted and reached out to touch one of the flowers hanging from the branch of the beautiful tree. “I know it seems simple, and perhaps I was wrong in my choice. But when looking, I saw that humans had learned how to… grow two trees together. To take two completely different things and combine them into something, beautiful. Much the way that two people can come together and create a beauty unlike anything else.”

Something stuck deep in Sam’s throat. He couldn’t seem to find his voice around it. All he could do was stand there and stare at this beautiful tree that Castiel had brought for him. That he had taken the time to go out and find, to plant here, all as a way to help. Because he cared. Because they were family.

Castiel tilted his head so that he could look up at the tree. A hint of a smile touched his lips. “I felt it appropriate to pick a tree bearing the two fruits you both love. Apples for Gabriel, and for you, pears. I was assured that they’ll grow well in this area so long as it’s tended properly.”

Finally, Sam found his voice, forced it past that lump. “Cas…”  This was – it was perfect. So perfect.

When Castiel held a hand out his direction, there was no hesitation this time to reach out and take it. Sam curled his fingers around the other’s and let Castiel pull him into the shade of the branches. Once there, Sam reached his other hand out and let it, shaking, brush against the bark of the tree. He didn’t care about the wetness on his cheeks. As he stood with his friend underneath the shelter of that tree, Sam cried, and he smiled.


End file.
